XMen Origins: Joule
by KShires09
Summary: the origin of Annessa Vladik aka Joule from diego12191's story Rivals. Read Intro. Rated "T" for language, violence, and lots of implied sex. lol.
1. An Introduction

Hello everyone! So I know I haven't been submitting anything to fanfiction lately, but I just finished up senior year of high school and now I have a whole summer to fuck around. No not literally. In case you've been wondering what I've been up to (you haven't, but seeing as I've dedicated an entire chapter JUST to rambling, I figured I might as well explain my whole life story, savvy? If you don't like it, skip to the next paragraph) last summer I wrote a non-fanfiction story, and in fact I just started writing a prequel to it. If you're interested in reading it (I'm not saying it's amazing, but it's mildly interesting) you can email me at the address on my page and I'll send it to you.

But anyway, regarding this story, it is, in a way, a fanfiction of my friend's fanfiction. My friend Dee (she was one of the "characters" in my Naruto story) began writing a fanfiction about X-Men which she called "Rivals." Two of the characters in there are OC, their names are Vera (aka Vortex) and Annessa (aka Joule), and we got to talking about their "origins" because of character building, personalties, and of course the origins MOVIES, but anyway. So, she is writing Vera's origin story, and I'm writing Annessas. Which I think means I'm writing a fanfiction to a fanfiction, but anyway. They're slightly different genres and styles but I think they work together pretty well.

The link to Dee's story is in my favorites. It's called "Rivals" and the author is "diego12191."

I will give you the information for Vera's origins story once Dee's uploaded it. So anyway, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy!

-Kate (kshires09)


	2. 1918

**1918**

Sharp cries filled the mostly-dark room in the orphanage. "It's a girl!" a nun with rosy cheeks smiled, handing the baby to nurse to be cleaned. "What is her name?"

"It doesn't matter to me," the woman said, glaring up at the nun, "I don't want to have anything to do with _her_." The nurse handed the child back to the nun before she spoke again.

"What is _your_ name?" the nun asked, staring at the woman intently, wondering if she really was as heartless as she appeared.

"Feodora Petrov," the woman replied after an unnatural pause.

"And what will you do now?" the nun asked her.

"I don't see how that matters," she answered, standing up although it wasn't the best for her to do. The nun decided not to point this out. "Where is the bathroom?" she asked; the nun pointed and watched as the woman left, standing tall even though anyone else's dignity would be shot.

The nun looked down at the baby in her arms, her golden-brown hair stuck to her forehead. "Annessa," she said, "a beautiful name for a beautiful little girl." The baby smiled, the nun joined her before wrapping a towel around the child and putting her down in her crib.

The nun left the room, turning out the lights as she left and pulling the door closed. She noticed the sweaty blonde hair of the mother flick around the corner as she moved.

"Feodora!" she called, speeding up as so to not lose the woman entirely, "Feodora!" as she turned the corner she saw the woman stopped, looking in her direction.

"Yes?" she answered.

"Is this what the father wanted?" the nun asked, looking concerned.

"I wouldn't know," the woman answered, "I don't know who he is, or rather, which." She sighed and gazed away from the nun, "And I doubt he knows she exists either." The nun didn't answer. "I think this is the best for her, though," the woman continued, "I doubt anyone would like to grow up with a prostitute for a mother." The nun remained silent, but remained nonjudgmental. "What did you name her?" the woman asked, looking up at her again.

"Annessa," the nun said, "after my mother."

"That's a beautiful name," the woman replied, turning to leave, "I will trust she is in good care." The nun nodded. "Thank you," the woman paused meaningfully.

"Svetlana" the nun said.

"Well thank you, Svetlana" the woman said and walked down the hallway, turning once more on her way to the door. The nun watched her leave, smiling slightly to herself, although she wasn't sure what caused the sudden change.


	3. 1933

**1933**

"Annessa!" a nun called, the young girl turned to look at her. "Annessa, you need to get ready, people are here to look at the children!"

"I don't want to be adopted!" Annessa snarled back, "nobody will ever love me if my own mother couldn't." Annessa was defiant, standing with her arms crossed, her nose wrinkled, and her brown eyes reduced to only slits. The big curls of her golden-brown hair were pulled back into a loose braid, the nun noticed strands coming loose, seemingly defying gravity.

The nun sighed, turning around and walking through the door again. "Svetlana!" she called, "Annessa's acting like a small child again!"

She heard Svetlana's soft flat shoes shuffling over. "I'll talk to her," she said as she moved past the other nun. "Annessa!" she said as she walked outside, "what is wrong? Why won't you cooperate with Innochka, she only wants for you to be happy?"

"Why should it matter in any case?" Annessa shot back, completely disrespecting the caring older lady. "Nobody would want to adopt me anyway! I'm a fifteen year old girl who still looks like a 10-year-old. They would probably think that I'm some sort of circus freak."

"But you're not a circus freak, dear," Svetlana said, moving closer to her for a hug. She placed her arms around the girl's small frame, noticing, when she did, an almost repelling force coming from her. It was somewhat difficult to keep a hold of her even though she was barely moving. "Come inside, will you dear? Make yourself beautiful for the nice people, okay?"

Annessa continued to glare at her but as Svetlana let go she followed her upstairs and into the room she had lived in since she was a day old. She shut the door before Svetlana could follow her inside and proceeded to slam the drawers of her wardrobe. Svetlana sighed and shook her head before she shuffled off to make sure all the other children at the orphanage were ready to line up in the Great Hall.

A short while later Annessa made her way down the shadowy steps to the Great Hall. The walls and floor were a dark wood and the room was filled with furniture once of bright royal hues: greens, golds, crimsons, and purples, which were now faded to dusty grey versions of their former brilliance. Overhead was a beautiful crystal candle chandelier; although it was old now with a few cobwebs, it was still as elegant as always. Annessa walked over to stand closest to the brand-new radio on the far wall.

She heard the sounds of small children, all younger than herself, and the soft tinkling voice of yet another nun leading them down the hallway towards them. Just then, she heard a loud banging coming from the tall entry doors of the orphanage.

"They're here!" Innochka said bustling past Annessa, her usually-wild black hair pulled back into a manageable bun, her apron discarded and her shoes unusually shiny. '_These _must_ be important people!_' Annessa thought, suddenly feeling underdressed in her worn yellow frock and scuffed brown leather shoes, but allowed her concern to slip from her mind.

Just as Innochka opened the door, the rest of the children entered the Hall. They all looked nice; although not rich they were dressed nicely, the girls' hair tumbling to their shoulders and the boys' cut short. Svetlana brought up the end of the line, holding the youngest member at the orphanage, toddler Iraina Tarasova, whose green eyes seemed to always be smiling and her blonde hair bouncy and beautiful.

Svetlana handed Iraina to the nun who was attempting to arrange the children into a perfect line, then headed to the door where Innochka was taking the coats of their guests. Annessa no longer found this procession exciting; she no longer hoped to be adopted. She watched as the potential-parents paced up and down the line, inspecting the children, occasionally asking questions, some to them and some to the nuns.

"How old is this one?" the stern gentleman asked, referencing Annessa.

"Fifteen," Svetlana replied.

The man shook his head, "Much too old, wouldn't you say, my dear?" The woman nodded, but gave Annessa a longing look. Annessa couldn't help noticing her own brown eyes in the woman's, but she looked away before Annessa could look at her face more intently. She thought she saw the woman blush as she moved past, but was unsure if that was really what she had seen.

"Who was that?" Annessa yelled at Svetlana once she had closed the large entry doors behind their guests. "Seriously Svetlana, who was that?"

Svetlana didn't answer and instead bolted the door shut again.

"Sveta!" Annessa yelled, using her the pet-name she had reserved for just this sort of occasion. She crossed her arms and scowled, almost stamping her foot as well, stopping only when she realized how childish she looked.

"Sergei and Nadja Grishkuv," Svetlana sighed, avoiding Annessa's gaze. She hurried around the girl, cleaning and dusting in her wake.

"Why did she look at me like that?" Annessa continued, following her close behind.

"Like what, I don't know what you mean," the nun replied, finishing her dusting and walking briskly to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

"Svet-" Annessa began.

"No more!" Svetlana stopped and spun around to look at her source of irritation. "We will talk about this later."

"Tonight?" Annessa said, temporarily perking up.

"When you're 18," Svetlana said; with that, she left.


	4. 1936: Part One

**1936 –Part One**

It was her birthday, as Svetlana was reminded constantly in the days leading up to it. 'Are we finally going to talk about Nadja?' she would ask; Svetlana wished she would just ask what she was getting for her birthday instead. But finally, today was the day where Svetlana would have to tell her about Nadja, or would she instead tell her about Feodora Petrov, or even her feeling that they were the same woman. Svetlana sighed and looked down at her weathered hands; she heard a hard knock on the door.

"Svetlana?" Annessa yelled through the door, completely impatient. She opened the door and looked at the girl standing before her, looking no more than a day older than 12. Svetlana couldn't believe it had already been three whole years.

"Come in," she gazed at her shoes; scooting backwards to allow Annessa inside, reminding herself that she was now an adult. Annessa sat on the chest at the end of Svetlana's bed, looking at her shoes instead of meeting Svetlana's now solemn stare.

"I suppose I should start with today," Svetlana began.

"What do you-" Annessa began but she shook her head; Annessa waited for her to continue.

"On this day, 18 years ago," she said, "a woman with long blonde hair and eyes the same hazel brown as yours, stumbled into this orphanage and gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, who she refused to name. And then she left without giving hers." Svetlana stopped and looked at Annessa for a while, neither spoke.

"Is that it?" Annessa asked, looking as furious as can be.

"No it goes on from there," Svetlana continued, "When she was five, an old nun noticed how she hadn't seemed to aged since she was a toddler, and at age ten, she appeared to be about four. At 15 she was seven, and at 18 she was barely ten. But this didn't stop her from mentally aging years past her time."

Svetlana paused again, but this time Annessa didn't speak.

"But we must go back in time once more, mustn't we Annessa," still she didn't answer, "because when she was 15, the young girl met a woman who mirrored her own image, and never forgot the face."

"So she _was_ my mother?" Annessa finally spoke.

"Yes, I'm almost positive," Svetlana replied.

"Why didn't she adopt me!" Annessa screamed the question and it echoed though the small bedroom, "Was she just adopting to make up for leaving me behind?"

"Your mother's heart," Svetlana began, "was in the right place."

"I'm sure it was," Annessa said, standing up from the chest and walking towards the door, tears winding their way down her face. She stopped in the doorway, turning to look at Svetlana head on.

"Sveta," she said, "does anybody love me?"

"I do," the old nun replied, her heart breaking to see the grief Annessa was going through. Annessa walked out the door.

"Are you leaving for good?" Svetlana asked, not bothering to raise her voice; she knew Annessa would hear her. The footsteps moving down the hallway stopped and Svetlana heard a small "yes" creep around the door. "You'll always have a home here at Vladik's,"she said, making sure to use the name of the orphanage itself.

"It'll always be home to me," Annessa's voice floated around the doorframe, "How could it not? It's the only place I've ever known." With that Svetlana heard the footsteps continue down the hallway, getting steadily fainter as the girl reached her bedroom. She sighed, and plopped herself down on the chest where Annessa had just sat, she sighed again, knowing what Annessa was about to do, and praying to God that she was wrong.


	5. 1936: Part Two

**1936 –Part Two**

Annessa looked around her small bedroom and cried when she realized that although she was allowed to leave now that she was 18, she had nowhere to go. Annessa had always hated to feel weak, probably because she was secretly terrified of everything. The future, finding her real parents, and being left behind, but perhaps the one thing she did not fear was fear itself, and that, she told herself, was something.

She changed, pulling on a worn pair of leather boots over her stockings and digging out a deflated down coat from the bottom of her trunk. She put it on, fixing it around herself with what buttons remained. She gazed at herself in the mirror and tried to smile, it didn't work and the tears returned once more. She sighed and stuffed a handkerchief into her coat pocket; remembering what else lay in there, she withdrew her hand quickly.

Annessa checked her wardrobe one last time, making sure she had put everything she would want and need into the old tattered suitcase that lay on her bed. Her check complete, she latched up her luggage and walked out the door.

She passed Svetlana on her way down the stairs; she stopped midway and spoke, "Sveta," she said, pausing for an answer.

"Yes dear?" the old nun replied.

"Where will I find them?" Annessa asked taking a glimpse to see if Svetlana was looking at her; she turned her head in the opposite direction when she saw that she was.

"The middle of town," Svetlana replied, knowing that it would be futile to withhold information at this point. "But I can't guarantee they still live there," she stopped, waiting for Annessa to meet her stare. When Annessa did not, she continued anyway, "It's been _three_ years, Annessa, _eighteen_ since you were born in this orphanage. Don't you think it's about time you let all your anger go?"

"Good-bye Sveta," Annessa said, ignoring the woman's advances and continuing down the stairs.

"Will you write, dear?" Svetlana said, having yet to move from her spot on the staircase. Annessa didn't answer but made her way through the Great Hall towards the tall entryway doors.

"I wouldn't count on it," she said, and with that, she was gone.


	6. 1936: Part Three

**1936 –Part Three**

Annessa had no idea where exactly she was going, but she knew she was headed towards Lubov. Vladik's Orphanage sat right on the outskirts of this town and, for some reason unbeknownst to Annessa, she was sure that her real mother lived there, even though it had been three years.

She shivered as her tattered coat allowed the wind to tear through her. "I hope I find her quickly," she muttered to herself. She continued to walk for a while, still shivering until she realized she was standing in the center of town. She looked around and noticed the small police station building. A tall man walked out of it and she felt the warmth from inside; she ran towards it and slid inside before the man could close the door behind him.

"Hello Miss," the ruddy-skinned police officer said to her, "Are you lost?"

"Sorta," she sighed, looking up at him; she noticed his dark brown hair and matching facial hair and his amber eyes, he seemed friendly enough. "I'm looking for my mother."

"Awe, you've lost her?" He said warmly, and sat down at the desk right behind him.

"I've never even met her," Annessa replied, the officer looked taken aback. "I'm from Vladik's," she added for clarification. She saw the officer's eyes soften again; he sighed.

"Do you know her name?" he asked her; she shook her head. "Are you sure you _want_ to find her?" he asked; Annessa nodded.

"Would it help if I said that she was a prostitute eighteen years ago and that, according to the nun who met her, I look just like her?" she asked him, determined to not to give up so easily.

The officer thought for a while, gazing at Annessa intently before he spoke again, "The mansion on the hill," he said, "The owner, Sergei Grishkuv, has a wife, Nadja, looks just like you. But blonde" he added. Annessa recognized the names as the couple who came to the orphanage three years earlier.

"Thank you," Annessa whispered and slipped silently out of the door and onto the street again. She could see the hill ahead of her and ran towards it, not stopping until she was at the top, knocking on the heavy wooden door of the mansion, which was bigger than the entire orphanage, or at least seemed to be.

Annessa looked behind her, she could barely see Vladik's from where she was standing, but she was determined that this home was larger. Her head whipped around when she heard the door in front of her creak open.

"Yes?" the man standing in front of her asked, it was the man that had come to the orphanage three years ago. The man seemed to realize this too, "Do I know you, Miss?" he asked her, a look of surprise plastered on his face.

"I don't think you would know me, Sir," she said, looking up at him, "but I think your wife might." The man looked surprised; his heavy brows were furrowed as he looked down at her.

"Come in then," he said, stepping aside from the door. "Nadja is upstairs," he inserted before calling for a maid over his shoulder. "Lidiya will show you the way." Annessa nodded and followed the young woman upstairs; she couldn't have been much older than Annessa herself. They walked down the upstairs hallways until they reached the pure white door at the far end. Lidiya opened the door to reveal a playroom.

Annessa walked in the door and gazed in shock at the room which was a pearly white, filled with extravagant toys and games and in the center: a beautifully carved wooden rocking chair where Nadja was sitting. Annessa walked towards her and heard Lidiya close the door quietly behind her.

"Who are you?" Nadja said, staring at Annessa intently.

"You tell me," Annessa said. Seeing the woman look away into the corner, she yelled, "Look at me!" The woman didn't comply; Annessa followed her line of sight to the corner, where a young girl, probably five years old, sat, playing with a beautiful porcelain doll.

"Nadean," Nadja said now looking at Annessa intently, "Go find Lidiya."

"Okay Mommy," the girl said, getting up and running out of the door, her golden-brown curls bouncing joyfully behind her.

"Annessa," Nadja whispered, tears welling up in her eyes as she fixed her eyes upon her first daughter.

"Yeah," Annessa said now glaring at her mother.

"How old are you now?" Nadja asked, gazing away again.

"Today is my eighteenth birthday," Annessa said.

"Of course," Sasja sighed. "Annessa?" she said and waited for Annessa to answer. All she got was a slight nod; she sighed again. "Can you forgive me?" she asked her, "I was younger, much to young for a child, and with no money to support one."

"I don't need to hear your excuses!" Annessa yelled, tears rolling down her cheeks, "I came here because I wanted to meet you; I wanted to talk to you; I wanted to love you." She paused and wiped her nose. "But then," she continued, getting louder, "I find out that you kept _her_, 'Nadean,' and you couldn't even adopt me when you came to the orphanage three years ago!"

"I'm sorry!" Nadja yelled, standing up; she was hardly any taller than her.

"I said that wasn't good enough!" Annessa screamed in response. Suddenly pulling the concealed knife out of her pocket, she stabbed Nadja in the stomach before running out of the pure white room, out the door into the darkened hallway, down the stairs, and out the front door. She heard a scream of terror before she closed the door again. But she didn't care as she raced down the hill towards town. She didn't stop in the town, nor did she go back to Vladik's; as far as anyone was concerned, she was gone forever.


	7. Early 1971: Part One

**Early 1971: Part One**

Annessa sat on a bar stool and stared across the counter at the bartender, who was looking intently at her ID. She noticed him look away from the ID for a second to take another look at her chest, which was prominently displayed in her sexy black dress. She didn't mind the attention as long as she eventually got her drink. "Iraina Tarasova" the bartender repeated, frowning as if he had mispronounced the name, "age, 22."

"Yes," Annessa said again, now more indignant, "Can I just have my drink now?"

"Sure" the bartender shrugged before finally fixing the drink she'd ordered 20 minutes ago.

Suddenly she noticed a tall, muscular man with short brown hair and a full beard staring at her, smiling evilly. "What choo lookin' at Shithead?" she spat at him, completely fed up with male attention for the night.

"Where I come from," the man replied, "we're taught to respect our elders." He grinned again and looked Annessa up and down.

"I severely doubt that _you're_ my 'elder'" she shot back, "How old are you, 25?"

"You're one to talk," he said, "You're barely of drinking age."

"Actually I'm fifty-three," she replied, glaring at him.

"Well then I'm one-hundred-and-fifty-one" he said, articulating each number.

"Bull-shit," Annessa said, standing up to face him, completely forgetting about the drink she had ordered, which had been placed on the counter a short while ago.

"Are you threatening me?" the man replied, standing up as well; Annessa noticed that he was close to a foot taller than her, but she was not deterred. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he continued, flexing his muscles.

"You'd be surprised what I can handle," Annessa said, spreading her legs so that she was in a fighting stance.

"Well let's just see about that," the man said as his once unnaturally-long fingernails extended into horribly yellow claws.

"Nifty," Annessa said, but otherwise didn't move.

Suddenly realizing what was about to happen, the bartender made motions and suggestions that the two went outside, but neither heard nor listened. With a ferocious growl, the man lunged at Annessa like a wild animal, but she didn't flinch. When he reached her, she upper cut him, punching him in the jaw, the force from which was enough to flip him over and send him flying backwards into the tables across the room.

The man got up with a grin. "What're you smilin' for?" Annessa asked him with a scowl, crossing her arms as he approached her. When he was within a foot of her he looked down at her, still smiling, he tipped an invisible hat for her, "Victor Creed," he said, retracting his claws so that they resembled semi-normal fingernails once again.

"Annessa Vladik," Annessa replied looking him in his golden-colored eyes, which seemed to be positively twinkling.

"Well Annessa," Victor said, "I think you've earned yourself a drink."

Suddenly they heard a shout as the bartender ran out from behind the counter. "What the fuck?" he yelled, grimacing at the mess and a broken table.

Victor and Annessa ignored him. "A drink?" she asked him, looking at him skeptically, "I've already got one." She walked back to the bar and sat down where she once was, taking a sip of the Bloody Mary that had been waiting for her on the counter. Victor followed her, sitting down next to her; neither spoke for a while.

"So I take it you _are_ actually fifty," Victor said, watching her take another sip of her drink.

"Fifty-three," she said in a matter-of-fact tone, finally turning to look at him, "I take it that you're one of those mutants, eh?"

"You're one to talk," he laughed, but Annessa didn't answer. The two sat in silence for a while again until she had finished the drink, at which point the bartender ushered them outside. Annessa heard him bolt the door behind them; she chuckled to herself before beginning to walk home. She had walked only a short way when she spun around, seeing Victor tailing her closely.

"What do you want?" she yelled at him, crossing her arms again, "Clearly I don't need your protection."

Victor laughed, "No, probably not," he said, "but as far as what I want, that would be to escort you home."

"Escort?" she teased, "I guess you really are a hundred."

"One-hundred-and-fifty-one," he said, mocking her tone from earlier. She sighed and looked up at him.

"You must have been one of the first," she said, "Freaks weren't much heard of, even when I was born."

"That's what they say," he said, a cheeky half-grin plastered to his face. "So how about that drink?" he suggested, "At my place?"

"Only if I get something else out of it," she said, popping her leg and looking up at him skeptically. His smirk broadened into a huge grin. "Not like that you pervert," she said and punched him hard in the shoulder. Both laughed, "But maybe," she added, following him home.


	8. Early 1971: Part Two

**Early 1971: Part Two**

Annessa stared sleepily at Victor over her large cup of coffee. "So we never really got to talking last night," she began, pausing for recognition and getting none. Rather than continue, she allowed her eyes to scan the small kitchen. It was cozy, with dark wooden tones of varying colors and a simplistic design. She gazed back at Victor, who seemed to be almost falling asleep opposite her.

"Rough night?" she joked, grinning slightly. He laughed but still said nothing. "Do you have a job or anything?" she asked, in a last ditch effort to strike up a conversation.

"Not really," he said, "I've been at war for the past few—past," he paused, counting, before shrugging, "my whole life," he concluded and smiled. Annessa raised her eyebrows. "I heal," he offered, unhelpfully.

"Uh, huh," Annessa said, deciding it was better not to ask.

"You?" he asked, looking at her intently.

"Me what?" she countered.

"Work," he said, "Do you have a job?"

Annessa sighed, realizing she had brought the question on herself. "I was a hired assassin for the past 20-or-so years," she said, "I was what they sent in when they needed someone," she paused, "unexpected." She paused again awkwardly. "I age at roughly one-third the rate of a normal human," she said hoping it would clarify some things. Victor nodded, yawning, and stretched his arms over his head, showing off his muscles. Annessa chuckled and took another sip of her coffee.

She sighed and put her head on the table, completely exhausted from the previous night's "affairs." She was now unsure how exactly to leave without seeming rude or slutty; both seemed inevitable. She heard her stomach rumble and hoped Victor hadn't heard.

"Do you need something to eat?" he offered, making no motion to move.

"Sure," she said, silently cursing his apparent super-human hearing.

"There's some stuff to eat in the cupboard," he said and pointed extending a claw in the right direction.

"Thanks," Annessa said and rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but smile as she got up. '_How strange_,' she thought as she looked through the surprisingly large yet barren pantry, '_I don't think I've smiled in years._'


	9. Late 1971: Parts One & Two

**Late 1971: Part One**

Annessa stared at the ceiling, Victor fast asleep next to her face down and snoring. She looked over at him and shoved him but he didn't wake up; she shoved him again, nearly knocking him off the bed. "What?" he asked her, only barely coherent.

"I've got an idea," she said, looking back up at the ceiling.

"What now?" he asked, groaning as he turned over and sat up reluctantly.

"We're running low on cash aren't we?" she asked, still looking at the ceiling.

"Mmm," he murmured, suddenly looking up at the ceiling to see if she was actually looking at anything. Noticing the sudden movement, Annessa turned to him again.

"Well," she said, "I heard that someone is going to make a large deposit into the city bank a few days from now."

"Heard from who?" he asked.

"Does it matter?" she answered him.

"As long as you're right," he said, "I suppose not." He grinned evilly, looking back at her again, as he devised their plan-of-attack.

**Late 1971: Part Two**

Annessa sighed as she stared across the road at the tall building made up mostly of white stone: the city bank. She was sitting on a small wooden bench, next to a little old lady who was smiling an unnatural amount as she fed the birds that had gathered around them. She stared blankly forward, raising her left wrist to eye level and pushing back the sleeve of her tan snake-skin trench to look at her watch. It was 3:57pm.

"Wait 'till four o'clock," she mumbled to herself, glad the old lady hadn't heard her. She replayed her conversation with Victor through her mind again, to make sure that everything was going as planned.

"At four o'clock," he had said, "Walk inside and approach the most timid-looking clerk." Annessa had nodded, closing her eyes to imagine it before Victor continued. "I don't care what you do," he said, "just make sure they're all _distracted_." He had made sure to emphasize the last word; Annessa nodded again, knowing exactly what he meant.

"Where will you be?" she asked him. He didn't answer, instead turning to the bank's blueprints, examining them carefully before pulling out another sheet. Annessa looked over his shoulder at the paper, which appeared to be the details of the bank's main vault.

"Around the side," he answered finally, glancing behind his shoulder to look up at her, "It looks like only the inner walls are metal-plated." She smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

Annessa jumped as her watch beeped, marking the change in hour. She stood up slowly, looking both ways before crossing the road. She walked up the pearly steps of the bank, making sure not to look hurried or nervous. She breathed out heavily when she had reached the front doors, making the one in front of her fog up slightly; she ignored it and pulled open the door, slipping gracefully inside.

Once in the middle of the entryway, she looked around, taking note of each clerk.

"But why the most timid?" she had asked him; He took a while to answer.  
"Because," he began, looking at her, "If you're going to kill someone, it might as well be the one who is least likely to fight back."

"That'll get their attention," Annessa muttered under her breath.

"In the meantime," he said, "I'll break into the vault from the outside."

Annessa sighed, closing her eyes and cracking her neck slowly as she steadily felt for her prized revolver which was concealed in a holster on her side under her shiny black blouse. Her eyes scanned the room again, finally locking on her target.

Her tan leather boots clicked on the golden marble floor as she made her way towards the small woman sitting behind a desk matching the floor. Her black hair was pulled into a French brain which extended all the way down her back; her black eyes hidden behind a thick pair of tortoise-shell glasses. The combination made her pale skin appear in even greater contrast.

"H-hello," the woman stuttered, glancing quickly up at Annessa before putting her head back down and staring intently at the pile of papers on her desk. Annessa raised a single eyebrow and crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently.

_Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap._

"I'm sorry!" the woman said suddenly, a look of utter terror on her face as she dared to look up at Annessa again. She was met with a disdainful look. "I-I'm Yun Hee," she whispered, avoiding Annessa's glares by motioning to her name plate.

"Aren't you going to ask me to sit down?" Annessa said, uncrossing her arms and placing her hands on her hips. She made sure to pull back her jacket, her shirt riding up slightly to reveal the bottom of the holster. Yun Hee's eyes widened; she gasped, covering her mouth in shock.

"Apparently not," Annessa said, smiling, her right hand inching up her side. She stopped at her fingers brushed the grip of her revolver. "In that case," she said, trailing off.

Suddenly, with only her taunts as warning, Annessa whipped out her revolver, pushing down the hammer and pulling the trigger in one swift motion, before any of the clerks could react. The bullet fired with a bang, hitting the young clerk right between the eyes without even breaking her glasses. Yun Hee keeled over, slumping sideways in her plush chair, her black hair falling into her face, blood rolling down her cheek like thick scarlet tears, before dripping on the floor. Annessa heard another clerk scream from behind her. She turned around slowly, slipping the revolver back into the holster.

She grinned, facing the red-haired woman who had just screamed.

"Now that I've got your attention," she said, allowing the proposition hang heavily in the silence before speaking again, "Maybe I can get some _help_ around here."


	10. Late 1971: Part Three

**Late 1971: Part Three**

Before Annessa could do or say anything, she heard shouts from the front door, followed by a stream of gunfire. She turned to look in the direction of the sound. Seeing the bullets headed straight for her, she jumped backwards, doing a back hand-spring, flipping out of the way.

Her heels hit the floor with a tap and she stood up, straightening her shirt and pulling the side of her coat back, revealing an array of knives and guns. She turned towards the shouting and the sound of heavy feet hitting the floor as the front-door security guards made their way towards her. Annessa smiled evilly and pulled one of the throwing knives out of her coat, aiming it at one of the guards and tossing it with ease. The knife hurtled towards the guard, flipping over in the air until it finally made contact with the guard, piercing his neck.

The guard was too stunned to stop, seeming to have not realized until he collapsed to the floor wheezing. The other guard yelled something at her as he crouched down to take a closer look at his friend.

"Poor choice," Annessa grinned, grabbing another knife. The guard saw the movement and stood up again quickly, firing his gun in her direction once more. Annessa chuckled and began running in his direction, dodging each bullet as it came her way. Before the guard could react, she was right in front of him.

Holding the handle of the knife so that the blade was away from her, she raked it through his chest, ripping the skin and making him cry in agony. Before he could fall to the floor, Annessa tossed the knife in the air; catching it in her other hand she stabbed him in the area of his heart. She punched him in the stomach with her other hand and he fell over.

Annessa stood up, still smiling, and spun around, staring again at the red haired clerk, who hadn't moved an inch. The clerk stared at Annessa not blinking.

"Hello?" Annessa yelled in indignation, making her way towards her, pulling out her revolver again, clicking down the hammer as a warning.

"How may I help you?" The clerk said finally, her voice shaking. Annessa continued to walk towards her, her grin fading, turning into a scowl. She could tell that the clerk was nervous by the beads of sweat running down her forehead. Finally the clerk looked away, blinking the sweat of her eyes. She only looked up again once Annessa's face was but inches from hers.

"H-how may I help you?" she asked again, stuttering, now physically shaking.

Annessa smiled again. "First of all," she said, "If anyone calls the police, they're dead." She glared around at all the clerks and accountants who were avoiding her gaze, minding their own business or pretending that nothing happened. When nobody answered she smiled back at the red-haired woman. "Second of all," she continued, "Are there any security guards around the vault?"

The clerk's eyes widened in surprise but she nodded anyway. "Well," Annessa grinned, "If I were you, I might want to check on that."

With that she smiled fully, winking, and walked to the center of the room to sit on one of the many waiting benches. The red haired woman continued to stare at her, before walking towards one of her avoidant co-workers, whispering to her before sending her to go look at the area around the vault.

As she sat, Annessa could hear nervous whispers scatter through the rows of desks before she heard a scream coming from the area of the vault. She grinned as she realized what had just been discovered and knew that Victor had finished the second stage of the operation. She remembered how Victor had told her how he would open the vault from the inside, killing the guards as a signal for his being done with his part. She smiled and stood up from the bench.

She almost skipped in the direction that the clerk had gone, her boots lightly tapping on the floor as she made her way to the elevated carpeted area. She walked down the hall turning a few corners until she saw the door to the vault. It was wide open, two more guards crumpled on the ground in front of it, the young clerk huddled in the corner shaking.

Annessa saw Victor as she turned got closer. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and his usual wicked grin playing across his face.

"Hey there," he said as she reached him, noticing his pockets, bulging with what appeared to be Rolex watches and gold necklaces. She also noticed the pair of brand new metal suit-cases sitting on the floor next to him.

"Hi," she said, stopping and gasping for breath slightly as she looked up at him. Then, without warning, Victor leaned down, forcing a passionate kiss on her lips. She sighed into his kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck. He pulled away and laughed.

"I think we need to move," he said and looked around cautiously. She nodded and followed him back into the vault, noticing the large hole in the wall and all the drawers on the far wall thrown everywhere; she stared intently at the sturdy safe in the center.

Annessa smiled with pleasure as she began to crack the code of the safe; using the small bit of paper she'd pick-pocketed from Yun Hee's desk. She glanced up at Victor once in a while to check that he was still watching out for anyone. The safe finally clicked open as Annessa heard shouts coming from the main hall, followed by the sound of heavy foot-falls. She grabbed the wads of cash from inside the safe and handed it to Victor, who added them to his already-full pockets.

She grinned and stood up, kissing him on the cheek before dashing over to pick up the suitcases. "Let's go," she said, running towards the hole in the wall. Victor smiled and nodded, following her out.

As they turned the corner on the outside of the building they could hear police sirens in the distance. They kept running down the street for a short while, until they could see the street corner that marked where they had parked their car.

"They'll be on our tails too soon," Victor said with a grin, running past her. Annessa smiled and grabbed his hand as they continued to run around the corner to where Victor had parked their car.


	11. 1975

**1975**

Annessa sighed and stared down at a shirtless Victor. She crossed her arms on his chest and put her head down, closing her eyes as she prepared to sleep. She could hear Victor's heart beating steadily and she rose up and down as he breathed in and out.

"Annessa," he whispered in her ear as she began to drift off. She lifted her head and turned to look at him, a look of wonder on her face. Victor was staring at her cheekily.

"What?" she asked him when he didn't continue. Victor didn't answer, instead shifting her easily off of him before sitting up to rummage through the drawer of the bedside cabinet. Annessa sat up and crawled over to him, kissing his shoulder lightly as she peered over it. He turned to her, kissing her nose, before continuing to rummage through the drawer.

"What are you looking for?" she asked again, getting steadily more curious and annoyed.

"Here!" Victor exclaimed as he pulled out a square, red-velvet, box roughly the size of his palm. He turned around to face Annessa and handed her the box. She took it, looking up at him in surprise.

"What—" she began.

"Just open it," Victor said, cutting her off.

She smiled and flipped open the box. Inside, sitting on a small red silk cushion sat a gold pendant and matching chain. Annessa's eyes widened as she gazed down at the beautiful pendent. It was in the shape of an oval, with a flower-like shape around it, each petal with a diamond right in the center, and right in the middle of the pendant was a humongous oval opal. The opal itself was light in color, but it still had its signature rainbow colors swirling through it. It was clearly worth more than anything he'd ever bought for her.

Annessa gasped, and looked up at Victor, her eyes still wide-open in surprise.

"Victor," she murmured, unable to finish the thought. Victor's smile broadened as he took the box from her, removing the delicate necklace from the box and fastening it around her neck. Annessa was still speechless as she turned to rummage through the opposite bedside cabinet, pulling out a hand-mirror from the drawer. She gazed at the reflection of the necklace, barely moving, even breathing.

"I take it that you like it," Victor chuckled, shaking his head. Annessa turned to look at him again, dropping the mirror to her side. She grabbed his face, almost knocking him over with the intensity of her kiss as he pulled the blanket over them again.


	12. 1980

**1980**

"Victor?" Annessa began, looking up at him from across the table; he met her gaze but didn't answer. She sighed and looked back down, lightly playing with her necklace. "I don't know how to say this exactly," she said, "But I guess the best way is just to say, 'I'm not getting any younger.'" She looked up again to see Victor frowning slightly. It was clear he had been feeling the same way lately.

"Pretty soon I'm going to look older than you," Annessa added; her voice sounded hurt. "And every time I look in the mirror I can't help but think," she paused with another sigh, "that someday, I _will_ die, Victor. I might live longer than most, but not forever."

Victor didn't say anything for a while; he was clearly thinking. Finally he said, "You know the guy I mentioned; William Stryker?" Victor asked her. She nodded. "Well he set up a testing facility on Three Mile Island. He asked me to help him run it when it started," he said, "He's testing on mutants; combining powers."

"What's your point?" Annessa said, "I don't want to be a part of his experiments."

"I know," Victor said quickly, "I wouldn't want him experimenting on you either. But," he added with a slight smile, "Stryker has connections. Connections that I'm sure could help to make you truly immortal." Annessa looked skeptical, raising her eyebrows until they were completely hidden behind her hair. Victor's smile broadened.

"Fine," Annessa said, rolling her eyes, "What's your plan?"


End file.
